Sin
by Mad Twins
Summary: Not all of us deserve redemption. .HD. .angst.
1. Lust

**The characters of this fanfiction do not belong to me. And I do not intend to commercialize them, or to get anything from it, except precious reviews. **

**(NT: and pay attention, because I will not say it again, got it? Thank you x))**

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**Title: **Sin

**Ship:** Harry/Draco

**Cover:** I'll update it later, on the profile, check it there.

**Summary: **Not all of us deserve redemption.

**Spoiler: **7 – but I've read no epilogue.

**Author: **Agata Ridlle

**Rating: M **(and I mean it)

**Chapters: **1\8 (and see how nice! As this is a translation, the fic's ready! Isn't it beautiful??)

**NT: **This fanfiction is SLASH, meaning Man\Man pairing, ok? If this offends you in any way, shape or form, please go BACK, or click the little red 'X' button at you top right corner. Thank you.

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**Sin**

_. immoral act . offense ._

_. sin ._

**Chapter 1 - Lust**

_. lechery . rut . libertinage ._

_. __corruption__ . __sensuality__ ._

The man sitting in the corner of the cheap motel lights up one more cigarette. He pulls the smoke in quickly and breathes it out all at once. And sighs.

The armchair has a privileged position: the open view of the door. He may be a wizard, but if he wants to get into a muggle motel he'll have to use the door. And he will be waiting for him.

Because he was called there.

Because he will be paid for it.

Or not, considering whom he was waiting for.

Draco Malfoy was never a predictable person. He's never been someone he could control. Someone he could close his eyes and say which reactions he'd have, what his actions would be like. It wasn't that Draco surprised him, he was just something to be observed.

Not that _he_ had observed Draco Malfoy. After all, it wasn't Harry Potter sitting in that armchair.

It was Sin.

Sin. Simple, direct, concrete. It was Sin, and being Sin was simple.

Such a small name with so many meanings. He didn't choose it. One day, a long time ago, it had been whispered in his ear, and he'd liked it. At that time, he didn't have any other name yet, he was Harry, because Harry was an ordinary enough name to exist in two worlds, two realities. But it didn't turn him into two different people.

Sin did.

As Sin, he could answer a mobile. He could be androgynous and say obscenities. He could sell his body. He could be free and not to give any kind of satisfaction. He could, for the very first time, feel.

And feeling meant pleasure, craziness, freedom. But it also meant pain and humiliation, he came to realize all too soon.

And now it meant insecurity.

Because _he_ knew. And he didn't call him there to be Sin. He'd phoned Sin and called him Potter. And that fact alone made him stay there, beside the full ashtray, sitting on the old brown leather armchair, between a motel bed and a door to be opened.

How did he end up there?

Harry burned out his cigarette, making the smoke go up in circles between his fingers. He took another one from the box and lit it between his thin lips, dropping his head against the armchair while the smoke danced slowly.

After so many facts that had arisen to separate Sin from Harry, finding a start seemed something complex.

When had Malfoy started? Eleven years ago, in a robe shop in Diagon Alley? In some point of the war? In a haunted bathroom or in a room in fire?

Malfoy in that motel had started with a call to Sin. A call that hadn't been made by any of them.

And that had been just two weeks ago.

**o0o**

Harry was looking at the cars going fast along the road. He liked that place. He could remember passing there at some point of his childhood, but definitely he hadn't had the chance to stop and watch the cars going by. Now he went there almost every night, wearing clothes that were nothing like the ones he used to wear in his childhood.

Sin's clothes.

Clothes he started buying a little more than a year ago. About the time he started to stand there, leaning against the walls of a muggle bar in that road. Tight trousers, quite short and well fitted blouses, elegant shoes. Nothing vulgar as the sluts who were at the corner, showing off their breasts, but vulgar enough to attract some _clients_.

In his pockets, no ID, no money. His well hidden wand was in the seam of his trousers and had the tendency of staying there all night long. The only thing he really brought with him was the mobile. Muggle. For Sin. For the clients had to come back, and they needed to know whom they were calling to, and Grimmauld Place didn't have a phone.

That night, Sin didn't have to wait in the road, it was through the mobile his work came, and hearing the well known voice of his client he knew he'd have occupation the whole night.

"Sin?", the voice came uncertain for a moment.

"Hello, dear!", honey. And seduction. Things that Harry didn't know how to use. He reserved that just for Sin.

"Are you busy today?"

He smiled. No he wasn't. Isabelle was the name she had said to him in the three nights they had spent together before that day. She said a gay friend of hers had recommended him as being… kind. Sin might or might not be kind, it depended on the client. She asked for things to be a little fiercer than her friend, and Sin knew how to give it, after all, his clients were mainly men, and men are strong.

Isabelle used to smile and kiss him, things that really few people used to do. And he liked her because it was never fast and she paid well. She had style. Good places, good drinks, good friends. At their first night, it had been her and a bottle of merlot wine. At the second, her and Priscilla, a redhead. At the third, her, Priscilla and Edgar. He knew he was in for a surprise that night.

But he never thought it was going to be quite _that_ big.

The key left at the reception of the five starts hotel along with the notice that he could go straight to the room. The badly lit room, two stemware on the table, the turned bottle on the floor, the suit over the couch. He turned his back on the door, locking it.

"Isabelle?"

"In the bedroom, Sin...", the agitated voice came muffled to him and made him smile.

He thought about taking off his clothes, or part of them, before meeting her, once they seemed to have started without him, but Isabelle liked to do it herself. He walked to the bedroom where the voice seemed to have come from, the sound of some music getting louder and louder and exciting him as he came closer. Getting in the mood.

Isabelle was naked, lying on the silk sheets, in the middle of the double bed. Her legs were crossed, hiding part of her body, the champagne _flûte _in her hand, a red lipstick smile on her face.

"Sin...", she moaned, holding out her hand, making him come closer so that she could kiss him, "You took a very long time."

He hadn't taken all that long, and the waiting was always repayng. He smiled and kissed her again, taking the _flûte_ off her hand, making her lie under him.

"Have you thought about what we're going to do?", he asked, smoothly, near her ear. He needed to know his role for the night.

She laughed and moved out of her place under him.

"Easy... I have a surprise... I'd like you to meet my new boyfriend... He'll stay with us tonight."

A door opened in the room, showing a white and gold bathroom, out of which came a young man, not very tall, not very strong. His angular features almost delicate, incredibly blond hair, very white skin contrasting with his black boxer underwear, the only item of clothing he was wearing.

His grey eyes narrowed when Sin lift his face, and he stopped immediately, shocked.

"This is Sin, that call boy I talked to you about.", Isabelle said casually and, realizing the tension that was going on in the room, she completed, "Did I say something wrong? Draco?"

Draco was livid, staring at Harry, from his tight trousers to the scar on his forehead, from his green eyes to his mouth, that was red from Isabelle lipstick.

But Sin was _professional._

He got up, walking around the bed, standing in front of the blond. And he smiled. A smile that Harry was incapable of giving, because Harry was incapable of looking at a person in the way Sin looked at Draco: devouring him.

Clients needed to feel desired.

"Hello, Draco.", his voice was a soft whisper, but it was enough to break the torpor the blond seemed to be in.

Malfoy pushed him against the wall, and if it wasn't for the astonishment he was still feeling, Harry was sure he would see in the other's silver eyes the same anger he used to see when they were kids. For a moment he thought the blond was going to hit him. It wouldn't be the first client to do it. But no, Draco just retreated, without stopping looking at him, and picked his clothes off the floor.

"I'm not making part of this.", his voice didn't have the disgust Sin was used to. It had the anger Harry was expecting.

"Draco!", Isabelle covered herself with the sheet and went after her 'boyfriend'. When she opened the door the blond had just shut, though, the corridor was already empty. "Sin, I'm sorry, I… I don't know what happened to him, he had agreed…"

"It's alright.", he held her, "I can still stay, if you want me to."

"No, I think no... I… am not in the mood anymore…", she walked to the little table at the other side of the room and took in her bag a lot of bills that made Sin's green eyes sparkle, "Thank you.", she smiled, giving him the money, "When I need, I'll call, ok?"

She didn't call. But days after that, his mobile rang, and Sin recognized the voice: Draco.

And now he was there.

**o0o**

Harry closed his eyes, tasting the cigarette between his fingers, his hand against the side of the armchair. He could almost hear Malfoy's voice again.

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

Silence. A miserable place like that motel. That day. That time. Whispered in that familiar voice, overhaste.

It was just one more date, like many others Sin had had. He shouldn't be afraid.

But it was the first client who knew Harry. The first wizard Sin was facing.

And that fact wasn't something he could ignore. He had expected Draco to go straight to the press. He didn't. He expected then, that _he_ ignored it, convinced himself it was just a coincidence, likeliness, a haunted image. But then, he had called _Sin_, and called him _Potter_ in a way that didn't make Sin hate him, as it was when they were school rivals, but still it let him paralyzed. And he allowed Draco to take the first step.

To Malfoy, Potter, Harry and Sin were all the same person, and that was a threat, because Sin had never watched Draco, and didn't know what to expect anymore.

Deep inside, Sin, just like Harry, didn't know how to deal with the predictable. He improvised, he dealt with the unknown. He answered urgent callings from people that _needed him_. Harry's life had become something very different from what it was before the war was over, and he hadn't decided yet if that was good or… suffocating. And that was what Sin was born from. And now, Sin was his problem.

And if Sin was his reason for being in that room, _eating_ cigarettes, then the beginning of it all was far before Draco Malfoy.

**o0o**

It was a grey autumn afternoon in London, with nothing out of the ordinary. Harry was nineteen; he had a reshaped house in Grimmauld Place, training as auror in the Ministry of Magic and a girlfriend.

And he had longings he had never had before. He wanted to eat popcorn and drink Coke. He wanted to go to funfairs and the cinema. He wanted to wander for days in muggle London, finding out everything he couldn't have done during his teenage years.

And in that afternoon he decided to go to the cinema. For the first time in his life. He went alone, for Hermione was studying for her training, Ron was trying to make her stop studying so they could date a little, Ginny was at school and he didn't feel _comfortable_ enough to call anyone else to go out with him to a muggle cinema.

It wasn't like there weren't volunteers. Whenever Harry went since the end of the war, there were always people wishing to help him, to pay things for him, to follow him, and ask him for autographs. And he didn't like that. That's why it wasn't a bother for him to throw a disguise spell over himself and go to the cinema alone.

And that's why he thought it was strange when a man sitting beside him offered him some Coke. There were lots of spare places, the cinema was almost empty, and he hadn't shown any kind of interest in anyone's Coke. But when, during the film, the man's hand slipped along the chairs and onto Harry's thigh, he stopped paying attention to any other thing and gripped his wand in the large sweater he was wearing.

"Enjoying the film, are you?", the voice came against his neck, making him shiver and back away, scared.

"A bit.", he answered, unsure.

"Don't you...", the offending hand was moving over his leg in a completely not innocent caress that made Harry's breath hitch, "want to take a walk? I think we could find something more interesting to do…"

The man's voice, his posture, the caress, his words. Harry may not have too much way with girls, but he wasn't innocent enough not to know what that man would consider more interesting. If, at a first moment, his hand gripped his wand harder, thinking about stunning the man right there and then, another side of him was getting lost with all that closeness.

"I don't know…", the words had left his mouth almost without his knowledge.

Harry saw the stranger's eyes looking around carefully, and Harry himself did the same, checking to see if someone was watching them. The light of a clear scene of the movie hit them both, and Harry could see that man was young, with stubble on his chin and a square face with a very manly air in his features, the black eyes watching him shamelessly.

Desire.

Harry had never felt desired. He knew Ginny liked him, but she had never looked at him in that way, making him shiver. He was feeling at bay with that approach, but not completely insecure. The way the stranger was cornering him against the chair, the way his hand was gripping his leg tightly were… new.

And Harry closed his eyes, and wished he could kiss other mouths, try other feelings, other sensations, before compromising himself so seriously, before getting married to the woman of his life and having kids and living happily ever after.

And he wanted the hand to go further and touch him over his trousers, and wanted the man to hug him again and whisper in his ear.

"Look… I don't know you, you don't know me… Right in front there's a motel, it's just across the street. It's good, not that luxury, but it's safe. I won't harm you, that's not what I want…", and the way his hand was moving over Harry's trousers showed him exactly what the man wanted.

And Harry had his wand.

And he went.

And he did it.

And it was his first time.

And he didn't know, but when that man found a place between his legs, invading his body without even knowing his name, Sin was being born.

**o0o**

Harry smiled with the memory of his own innocence, and drew in the smoke of his cigarette again, and his laughter could be heard among the smoke.

He was nineteen and his sexual experience was a minimum when he had been in a man's bed for the first time. It was when everything was over and Harry fell exhausted on the bed that his first worries started to rise.

He shouldn't have done that. Half his life, he'd heard that was wrong, vulgar and sinful. In the other half, it didn't seem all that wrong, but he couldn't see Mrs. Weasley congratulating him for being naked with a man he didn't even know. But he had always acted before thinking, and just at that moment that kind of detail came to his mind.

And his body was aching, and he felt good, but insecure, for it seemed like all of his world had just vanished among those sheets, and he was painfully aware of that. However, he only went to sleep when the stranger turned around, mumbling something, and held him. That was new. And it was good.

And when Harry woke up, there were some bills on the bed, and he didn't understand.

And now Sin was smiling, sitting on the armchair, for that ingenuity had got lost in less than a year.

Harry, for a few days, decided not to think about what had happened. He preferred sitting in his house and staying there. He preferred thinking about that night as a mistake and writing to Ginny telling her he loved her while he was dreaming of the stranger.

And he kept those bills. He kept the money, because he didn't need money. He had his own clean money to spend, he didn't need to be paid for receiving kindness from a nameless man.

Kindness.

Kindness made Sin go back to smoking while facing, serious, the cheap motel door.

Harry didn't admit that in the moment he accepted to go to that motel, but it was that hug he dreamed of the following days. Sex was a type of kindness nobody had ever offered him. And the next few days he found himself missing it. And he ended up spending the man's money, because it was money nobody knew of, and it was a way of going to the cinema without having to explain to Hermione why he went to watch the same movie so many times.

Soon, Harry watched and learnt that strangers usually didn't come on strangers in that cinema, but if he stayed leaning against the hotel wall, soon someone would offer him a cigarette.

And Harry started smoking. But only on those nights. It was Sin who smoked, but he wasn't aware of that yet.

The first man to call him Sin was also the first one to ask him to do _things_. Things that made Harry nervous. He wasn't used to be touched when they asked him to touch. And suck. And, if at a first moment Harry wanted to scream, the next one he received the attention he needed, and his embarrassment was just another dragon to be conquered.

And Sin learned things. And Harry stopped spending so much time with his friends to allow them to date more in peace, and started to have fun as Sin with less reserve, even if he still had something against receiving the money so many man offered him.

At the beginning he felt offended. He wasn't selling himself. But the first man whom he tried to give the money back to appeared to be much more offended than him. And, then, the money no one knew existed had the advantage that no one needed to know it was being spent. And this way, Sin got his own clothes, different from Harry's, and he could buy his own cigarettes, which Harry didn't smoke.

The feeling of needing some reward for what he was doing only came after his first beating.

Harry had always felt safe in the nights he went out: he had his wand, he was of age, and he only stayed with muggles. It was more than enough guarantee so that nothing bad could happen to him, even if usually he was approached by people physically bigger than him, even if he was with more than one person at a time, he felt safe.

Until the day when he, inebriated by the sensations, allowed himself to be handcuffed. And, when you are handcuffed, and your wand is in your trousers pocket, which is lying at some point of the floor, it's hard to avoid that a man at least ten years your elder and much bigger than you beat you up and fuck you all the ways he can imagine, no matter how much you scream.

That day, Harry felt more pain than pleasure. And he had to remember that he had felt more pain than that in his life and that, if that man still left a reasonable amount of money on the bed, it was because he still had far more consideration for him than his uncle and aunt, for example, who had always mistreated him without giving nothing in return. And that pain overcoming the pain made him swear he would never do that again.

Sin smiled once more, lightening a new cigarette. He let the smoke out and laughed again, watching it going up towards the moldy ceiling of the room. He remembered that that had happened near Christmas, and that he was happy because his Weasley sweater could hide all the marks on his body. And he remembered how cold Ginny's kisses seemed to be. And that was when he realized she was only eighteen, and he was far older than the last time he had seen her.

For Ginny had come to her seventeen years of life having faced a basilisc, a dictator Headmaster and her brother's death. Harry had come to his eighteen having faced the responsibility of a war since he was born, and his own finiteness.

And now he was facing himself, for if Harry was born of a war and Sin of a fuck, them both had had the same beginning.

And Sin had bought a mobile with that stranger's money, and he went back to his corner.

And now they sat together on that armchair to face themselves.

**o0o**

Harry Potter had been born as a common child, with parents that loved him and an unsure future ahead. When he was one, Harry Potter became nothing. And as nothing he was treated for ten years. Submissive, ignored, repressed, no matter what answers he gave to that.

At eleven, he had to prove that not only he wasn't a nothing, but also that he was a hero. The heroism tied to his name, tied to titles and signs that didn't speak about him. And, denying everything he had been, Harry Potter spent seven years becoming someone he _was not_.

And, when he thought that, from the moment he did everything everyone expected him to do, he could finally draw up his own life, Harry Potter saw himself being dragged along with new responsibilities.

Just like the good guy of the story coming to an end, he should be together with his damsel in distress, proving how faithful he was. He should keep having a noble character and accepting all the homage and thanking. He should maintain his old opinions and aims and follow straight ahead along the way other people had made for him.

But after you _die_, it's quite hard to keep having the same opinions.

Truth is, at the end of the war, Harry Potter let himself be led and, at a first moment, he felt happy for not having to decide what to do. Little by little, though, he found out that not all he did, he needed to do. And he didn't know how to say that without hurting the people who had been by his side all of his life.

And then he hurt _himself_.

He didn't want to be ungrateful. He was unhappy. But he felt ungrateful. And he continued being unhappy so that he wasn't a burden to others. And he continued that way until he realized that there were people who didn't really care for him, but even still were making him happier.

And Sin came to life. And he found out that being a whore wasn't just about coming, but something in him was telling him it was worth it. Even if he got beaten. Even if he had to be submissive and lower himself. Even if a great part of the money he got he spent in potions against the diseases he caught.

The problem was, after you die, the necessity of feeling alive is bigger.

And he needed more than happiness and peace to feel alive. If he felt better with someone who called him _Sin_ than with one who called him _Savior_, maybe he needed to know what was his true name, and what it meant. If he felt better with someone who pulled his hair, slapped his face and fucked him on all fours than with someone who blushed with a chaste kiss in front of her parents, maybe he needed someone who would appreciate him in a different way. And if he felt guilty for arriving aching every night, but went out again the next night, maybe he needed to stop lying to himself and assume that Sin was doing things he didn't think right, but which he needed all the same.

And that demanded a new beginning.

What demanded answers that maybe the person stopped under the doorsill of that motel room could give.

**oOo**

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**NT: so, people, I hope you like Sin and all the fun he's going to bring you. X)**

**Be nice and dear and leave a comment, ok? So that I know I should continue with this.**

**See you soon and**

**R E V I E W !**

**PS: I need a beta. Anyone know of one? Let me know, please, thank you. ;****


	2. Greed

**AN1: **I'd suggest you to listen along the chapter the song 'You look like rain', by Morphine. Relax and enjoy. XD

**NT: This chapter is completely dedicated to 'SIG', who was our only reviewer. Really thank you, hon.**

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**Chapter 2 - Greed**

_. excessive and sordid fondness of money . _

_. __avarice__ . __parsimony__ . __cupidity__ . __jealousy__ ._

_. intense and violent desire of possessing something ._

He was there, and there was no going back.

Draco closed the door and took his wand, whispering silencing and locking spells all around the room. Nothing would go in or out that room that night.

Green eyes were shining in the badly lit room. The black haired man was sitting on an old armchair, the red tip of his cigarette between his lips standing out. He was smiling. And didn't say anything.

Draco looked at the dusty double bed beside him and grimaced. He agitated his wand once more, and an armchair, pretty much like the one Harry was on, only newer and more comfortable, showed up and he sat down.

Right n front of _him_.

"Good night, Malfoy."

"Spare me of your politeness, Potter. I'll go straight to the point."

"And what do you want?"

Draco sat straighter on his chair and faced Harry looking more serious, his voice sounding lower.

"Who is Sin?"

"I am.", the answer came fast and sharp, "Who are you looking for, Harry or Sin?"

"You.", Draco shot back, seriously. And he didn't like the was those green eyes narrowed, "What do you want with me?"

"I didn't ask for this meeting, Malfoy."

"No, but the way you acted...", Draco looked away for a second, remembering the night at the hotel, and at the second, Harry _laughed_. And the sound of his laughter made Draco feel vulnerable. And those green eyes knew it.

"Where did you meet Isabelle?", Harry asked, still laughing.

"Her name is not Isabelle."

"And mine is not Sin."

"This is not relevant.", Draco intervened.

"She's my client, Malfoy.", Draco looked a bit shocked for the bluntness of the sentence, and Harry shook his head positively in a way Draco didn't understand.

"I've met her at a muggle party, in that place muggles go at night, to dance. I was with Goyle, he's been trying to avoid wizard's environment and I'm trying to… Anyway... It doesn't matter."

"You're not together, then?"

"Potter, it was the first time I've seen her. And the last one too. I don't have the time to spend relating to muggles.

"But you have the time to spend in conversations with a hustler in a muggle motel.", Harry leaned towards him, putting his arms over his knees and entwining his fingers in a practical gesture, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco mirrored his posture, prolonging the silence without taking his eyes off Harry.

"Why haven't you gone to the press?"

It was Harry's turn to get scared. And Harry's suspicion made Draco uncomfortable.

"And why would I?", there was such indignation in Harry's voice and a sincerity that, Draco had just realized, was the first familiar thing that night, "I expected _you_ to run there."

"And what power would I have against you? My word that Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, attends to strange callings in the middle of the night, and goes by the suggestive name of 'Sin'? For Merlin, Potter", Draco's voice failed, showing all the tension he was feeling since he had entered the room, "You just had to say _anything_ and I would be back to Azkaban in the blink of an eye."

Harry had such a smile on his face that Draco would have stepped back if he wasn't already backing enough as it was.

"So you don't want to blackmail me?", Harry asked, still laughing.

"No, scarhead, I've just come here to know what you want to keep your damn mouth shut."

Harry's expression became guarded.

It was fast. And Draco should have known what it meant to be in front of the wizard who spent a good part of his life facing Voldemort: more than paying attention to his words, gestures and actions, knowing where his wand was, was crucial.

Harry's wand was in Sin's black coat. And he didn't need to move a single muscle so that his spell had Draco frozen in place.

"Potter…", his voice was shaken, and he couldn't hide the fear that was creeping on his face, the only part of his body he could move.

"Let us be practical, then, Malfoy.", Harry was standing, he threw his coat over his armchair and started to pace on the small room, turning his wand between his fingers, "I don't like the way you speak to me, just like when we were thirteen. I can't decide whether punching you would make me feel better these days."

"Perhaps a _sectumsempra_ would help you.", Draco answered angrily. His anger was way bigger than his fear.

And Harry smiled.

"Perhaps not. Do you know what would help me, Malfoy? You telling me, _for real_, what you want from me. You know, you may not have time to waste with me, but _my_ time is worth money, and I'm wasting it on you."

Draco looked at him silently.

Harry pulled his sleeves up and kneeled in front of Draco, Harry's wand wandering slowly over Draco's trousers, passing his knees.

"Right. You were afraid I was going to blackmail you. Why?"

"Potter... What... What are you doing?"

"My job. Just answer.", Sin's voice was low and gentle and made Draco gulp in fear. That was getting dangerous.

"What do you think?", he answered between his teeth, holding his breath the next second when Harry's hand started to unbutton his trousers.

"I? I thought you could have come here for two reasons: one, because you regretted leaving the room that way, running; or two, because _you_ wanted to blackmail me. But I think I was a little… _selfish_.", Harry smiled seeing the blond panting and closing his eyes while he was touching him, "But I can't see what arguments I could have against…"

"Take your hands off me!", Draco said.

"No.", Harry answered simply, knowing the answer the other would give him.

"Right.", Draco said fast and Harry stopped, waiting, "Potter, what do you think that would happen if the world knew I was in a luxury hotel with a muggle and a whore? I'm a _Malfoy_, and, being a downright jerk, that doesn't mean a lot these days, and that's the problem. If word of this got out, all my work of _years_ would be lost for… nothing.

Harry got up, leaning against the arms of the armchair, facing him.

"What are the Malfoys?", he asked seriously.

"Do you want me to humiliate myself too, is that it?", Draco asked, panting.

"No. I want you to answer my questions. Why are the Malfoys the nothing you've said? That's not what I've seen."

Draco laughed bitterly.

"I don't know what you've seen, Potter, but while you were dedicating yourself to much more... enjoyable activities, I've spent six months in Azkaban, my mother stayed there for a year, and my father is still there. Our fortune's been confiscated by the government, we've lost everything.

"I know that. And I gave my testimony on your favor, guaranteeing a smaller sentence to you. Why would I want to harm you now?"

"Don't ask me to understand someone _like you_.", Draco spat angrily.

Harry raised an eyebrow, facing him seriously.

"Someone like me.", he repeated, "And what am I, _Draco_?"

The blond closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt a hand lightly over his chest while Sin's fingers opened his shirt buttons. It didn't matter what he did, he would not respond to that.

A hot mouth deposited a small kiss in the middle of his chest and his breath hitched. He turned his face to a side, his eyes still closed, and, like it was following his moves, that mouth went in the same direction, until it caught one of his nipples.

"Shit!", he panted out, while cursing his body's reaction to that.

Harry smiled, keeping the blonde's skin between his teeth, his hand went back to the caresses and even with the many names that had followed that action, he knew it was a very difficult question to be answered. His mouth went down the blonde's body, kissing and sucking, until he got where he wanted. And he got, at Draco's first moan, the sign of his reward.

"STOP!", Harry laughed with all that despair. And his laughter, in that situation, only made the blond threw his head back and once more, a lot of names could be heard until he heard what he wanted, "Harry… For Merlin… I'll say…"

Harry straightened up, still kneeling, and waited for Draco to recover enough to put two words together.

"What… What do you want to know?"

"What you think of me."

"Merlin, Potter.", Draco closed his eyes, trying to organize his thoughts someway, what seemed to be very hard, "What I think of you? I think you're the most sadistic son of a bitch I've ever known and I would like to sue you till you fifth generation after I leave here, but I know I can't because you're still everyone's little hero and you could screw with me easily. And that wasn't a suggestion, please.", he added, a little desperately.

Harry was laughing openly at the other's reaction. Draco didn't seem to consider that a good answer, and continued speaking.

"What is it? Isn't it true? Have you ever thought how many times you left me in a depressing situation since the day I had the displeasure of meeting you? And I'm not talking about detentions.", Draco laughed, taking a deep breath, "You may have saved my life, Potter, but your attempts of killing me still sound more valid."

"I can only remember one.", Harry answered seriously, "And if it's worth anything, I really didn't know what I was doing."

Draco looked at him and made a face, without saying anything else. Harry thought that was… sweet.

"Malfoy, you've been hostile towards me my whole life. Even if I had thought about being just a little bit friendlier towards you, you would repel me. How do you suppose I…"

"Potter, you've no idea what…", he sighed, "Never mind, that's in the past. It doesn't matter now. I'm screwed, you're messed up, and we're fine this way. Could you release me? I really shouldn't have come here..."

"You don't look fine to me, Draco."

"How clever!", Draco rolled his eyes.

"What's happening?"

Draco looked at him… sadly, and made a denial gesture with his head.

"Nothing that matters to you. If you give me your word of ex-gryffindor, I can go home happily and I swear, for my self-preservation sense, no one will ever know about you, or Sin, or whatever, ok?"

Harry sighed, getting up.

"You know, Draco, it took me a very long time to realize how I've become Sin. But one thing is sure: you learn a lot about _people_ in this branch of business."

Harry took off his shoes, kicking them to a side, and took off his socks with his feet. He went to the armchair, taking his cigarette, finished smoking it, while talking.

"People who come on strangers on the streets after sex _always_ have something wrong. Most of them are married, with kids and all. You know, they could have a really happy life, but they never seem to have enough. There are others who are just lonely, they look for casual company, just a shag, you know? Desire.", Harry put the rest of his cigarette on the ashtray, "Once I refused to take the virginity of a girl."

"Very noble of you.", Draco said almost laughing.

Harry looked at him seriously and put his wand carefully on the empty armchair. He focused on unbuttoning his shirt slowly, starting to speak again.

"I've lost mine on the street. My first time on the street. But, you know, no one preserve himself or herself on the street. I would never be ready for everything I've lived. The most curious thing I've found out is how many men look for hustlers to be bottoms. The society oppresses, Draco."

"The _muggle_ society, in this case.", Draco corrected, wondering where that conversation would lead them.

"Harry shrugged, throwing his shirt on the bed and opening his belt and trousers, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Draco.

"Potter..."

"The wizarding society oppresses in other ways. _Everybody_ who looks for sex with strangers has problems with themselves. I speak with a _lot_ of experience.

Harry, completely naked, kneeled over the armchair where Draco was immobilized, putting one leg on each side of Draco's body and sitting on his lap, joining their chests while one of his hands started to touch Draco.

"Look at me, Draco."

The husky voice against his ear made the blond shiver. Draco felt a hand touch his shoulder and neck until it entwined in his hair, pulling his head to face Harry.

To face those green eyes he didn't want to see.

"I don't want it, Potter. Let me go.", he asked with a cold voice, very much conscious that it was also trembling.

It wasn't easy to keep calm with a naked man sitting on your lap, with a hand in his trousers, caressing him faster and faster, and the other hand touching his body, the mouth on is ear, on his neck, his chest, his shoulder… his hips moving.

"Stop, Potter… Please…"

"What's your problem, Draco?", Harry whispered in his ear, moaning, feeling the blond breath in strongly as his bodies joined.

Draco threw his head back, breathless every time Harry moved, closing around his body ever so slowly, driving him crazy.

"Ah, Harry...", the whisper escaped between his lips with so much desire that Sin opened his eyes to look at the blond. His grey eyes were closed, his mouth opened, panting.

He touched the pink lips with his fingers while increasing the speed, and those eyes looked at him, lost, while he caressed his face. His other hand went down the blonde's robes and found his wand. Harry whispered the counter spell and moved harder against Draco's body, feeling the blonde's hand moving over his waist and hips, moving with him.

Harry shivered feeling Draco's hand clenching his leg hard, while the other entwined on his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. A heated kiss.

He knew he shouldn't come, that was not the way things worked. That was Draco's pleasure… and it was Draco who made him lose control, pulling the blond against him, making him enter deeper while breaking the kiss with a sentence Harry had never heard before.

"I love you."

**oOo**

**NT: ok, now, I think we should talk. This story received only one review and I completely understand that. I mean, you don't know the writer, and you also don't know the story, so, why comment it, right? But I need to know if at least there is more than one person reading this, because, really, I won't lose hours and hours of my scarce free time to translate something no one's reading. So just let me know, ok? Even f it's only 'oh, nice. I'm reading.'**

**Of course I would be more than glad if you said what you think of the story so far, and if you're enjoying it or not, and all of that.**

**So, let's try and be nice, shall we?**

**Be a dear and**

**R E V I E W !**

**ps: There is one more story, of another writer, which I started to translate as well. It's got a whore!Harry, but in a different context, and it's HPSS. What do you think? Should I try that one as well? Let me know.**

**;*****


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